Leather Couches and Ice Cream Cones
by rosyle
Summary: MAJOR spoilers for UNAIRED episodes 2x12 thru 2x17. This story is based roughly on spoilers I have read for upcoming UNAIRED episodes, so not everything is accurate. Be warned, that certain plot points for the show might be ruined. NOW COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Leather Couches and Ice Cream Cones (1/?)  
**Author:** rosyle  
**Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
**Raiting:** K/PG  
**Spoilers:** MAJOR spoilers for UNAIRED episodes (2x12-2x17)  
**Summary:** Don't we all like a good bickering session now and then?  
**Notes:** Once again, I have to give a HUGE thanks to my beta. I wouldn't be able to write these without you. This story is based roughly on spoilers/sides I have read for upcoming episodes, so not everything is accurate. That, and sides change. But be warned, that certain plot points for the show might be ruined if you read this. If anything, save it for later and come back after the episodes air   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bones or the characters (even though I wish I did).

--------------------------------------

"You're jealous," she states matter-of-factly as she turns to face him. She remains, however, firmly planted on her end of the couch they are sharing.

"I am not jealous," he retorts. He seems to be glued to his couch cushion as well.

"Yes," she states emphatically. She scoots over onto the middle cushion, closing the distance between them and getting closer to his face. "You are." Her hand stops just short of poking him with a finger.

"No," he pauses. "I'm not." He gives her this smirk that's hard to identify. It seems to be a kind of defensive reflex; an attempt to use charisma to get himself out of a jam.

The bickering had been going on for much of today's session - which had been the status quo for most of sessions since she had joined them.

Agent Seeley Booth was sent to me for anger management therapy shortly after a serial killer (who had caused havoc not only in the lives of himself and his partner, but also those of their friends and families) had fallen off the balcony of Dr. Temperance Brennan's apartment. The jury is still out on whether the fall could have been prevented. Shortly thereafter, Agent Booth shot up an ice cream truck. He claims he was just trying to make the "goddamn noise stop." Of course, most people deal with loud noises by shooting at them nowadays. Hence why he's here with me now.

Dr. Brennan on the other hand, is a different story.

While Agent Booth was undergoing psychological evaluation, he sent down one of his long time FBI buddies, Agent Tim Sullivan, to help Dr. Brennan on a case in Florida. Little did Booth know that he was getting more than he bargained for. After a rocky start with Agent Sullivan, Dr. Brennan discovered that Booth had been instructing his FBI colleague on how to act around her. This wound up backfiring on Booth once she found out. Shortly after their return from Florida, Dr, Brennan and Agent Sullivan began dating, much to Agent Booth's chagrin.

Speaking with Agent Booth over the past month, I have observed that his feelings for his "partner" are significantly more than those which normally accompany the relationship between partners or even friends. Agent Booth does not seem to consciously realize that, however. He always speaks very highly of her, yet she is the person who gets under his skin the most. When one of our sessions turned into a discussion about Dr. Brennan and Agent Sullivan, Agent Booth became demonstratively embittered.

"She's _my_ partner. Not his," he stood up from the couch and started pacing. "Why would Cullen go over my head like that and let her go out in the field with him? Hell, he didn't even want her in the field with me at he beginning. She's _my_ responsibility."

"You like to emphasize that she's _yours_ a lot," I pointed out. "Don't you Agent Booth? Do you even realize that you're doing that?"

"I don't mean mine as in _mine,_" he said, using air quotes. "But, mine as in we work together and we're partners. I had to fight for her in the first place and Sully - Agent Sullivan - was supposed to just help her out for one case. _One _case." He puts a finger in the air to emphasize his point. "Ya know what? This is your fault. If I never had that damn psych evaluation Sully would have never gotten involved." He returned to his seat on the couch.

Nice deflection.

"So, you're telling me that if you had never shot up that ice cream truck, then Agent Sullivan and Dr. Brennan might not be dating now?" I prodded.

"Yes," he answered without thought. "I mean, no. I just mean I wouldn't have to fight to spend time with – to go out in the field with my partner!"

I paused and looked straight into the Agent's eyes. I knew that he wasn't ready to accept the full spectrum of his emotions toward a certain Forensic Anthropologist, but maybe she'd be able to help him.

"Agent Booth, would you mind if Dr. Brennan came to one of your sessions? I think that discussing your concerns about your work relationship, head on, might be extremely helpful for both of you," I suggested. Killing two birds with one stone is usually the way to go in these circumstances. They might be able to dance around each other, but they weren't going to dance around me.

I could see the apprehension in Agent Booth's eyes.

"Bones hates psychology. I'm pretty sure that she won't..." He faltered.

"I could make it mandatory for her to be here. I think she'd like that a lot less, wouldn't she, Agent Booth?"

Knowing that I was right, he obliged. "I'll see what I can do," he said. He got up off the couch, but before he exited, he turned back to me and said, "Oh, Dr. Wyatt, just call me Booth." And with that, he was gone until the next week.

-----------------------------------------------------  
A/N –I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this story is going to have, so bear with me. I'm hoping to post at least a chapter a week. Love it? Hate it? Reviews are always apprectiated!


	2. Chapter 2

I heard the faint sound of banter approaching from the hallway, and caught only the tail end of their conversation before they entered.

"But Booth," she protested. "It wasn't my fault!"

"Next time, I'm driving." he retorted.

As the door opened, I heard her murmur to herself, "If there is a next time…"

I watched them enter the room. She was first; he trailed behind with his hand on the small of her back. The gesture was slight but very telling. A male will place his hand on a female's shoulder or the small of her back to show dominance and ownership of sorts in order to prevent other men from approaching her. It seemed to come very naturally to them: she didn't flinch at his touch and he didn't hesitate (an unconscious reaction) before doing it. Based on their lack of reaction, one could assume that he often places his hand on her in that manner. I watched as they took their seats on the couch. She sat as far to the right as possible, but he hesitated a moment before taking the seat to the far left.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm glad you could join us today," I started.

"Temperance, Dr. Wyatt. You can call me Temperance," she offered. "I'm not exactly certain as to why I am here, though. I thought this was only mandatory for Booth."

"It is. I asked Booth if he would be willing to ask you to join us so we could discuss some of his concerns with you directly."

"Wait, so this _isn't_ mandatory for me?" She turned to Booth, anger starting to rise in her voice. "Booth..."

"Well, um, yeah," he said, looking down at his hands for a few seconds before his eyes finally settled upon her face. "It wasn't exactly mandatory for you, Bones, but would you have come willingly if I was all 'Hey Bones, let's go gets our heads shrunk today?' 

Immediately he turned to me and put up his hand. "No offense." I just nodded in acknowledgement.

"Besides," he continued, turning to face her again and shifting a bit closer to her on the cushion. "I _did_ let you drive." He flashed her a smile which can only be construed as one dripping with self-satisfaction. I'm beginning to realize that he does that a lot in uncomfortable situations. It definitely appeared to be one of his many coping mechanisms.

"Ugh," she replied, rolling her eyes in his general direction.

"Temperance," I began. "Agent Booth has expressed some concerns regarding the status of your partnership."

"The status of our partnership?" She looked at me questioningly then turned quickly in the Agent's direction. "Booth? Our partnership? What is he talking about? You've been talking about us— me in your sessions?"

Instead of looking at her, Booth focused his attention on me. "See? This is what I mean. She's so concentrated on writing her books and going off to solve cases with her new _boyfriend_ that she doesn't realize that there's anything wrong with us!"

"And by _us_, you strictly mean your working relationship? Am I correct in that assumption?" I probed.

I watched him surreptitiously glance in her direction, which led me to I assume that he was trying to gauge her thoughts so he could provide the appropriate response. At that point her body language was definitely that of defiance. Closed off. Her arms were crossed over her chest, what could only be described as a scowl was prominent on her face and her eyes were focused on a spot on the wall next to her.

"Yes," he said after taking in her appearance. "That is correct."

Snapping back into focus, Temperance turned to address me. "How am I supposed to know he has concerns if he doesn't express them to _me_? Aren't partners supposed to be open and tell each other things, Dr. Wyatt?" She sat up straighter and moved more forward on the cushion. "For example, when he started dating Cam, did he tell me directly? No, of course not. I had to find out on my own. Yet, when I was _thinking_ about dating Will, I mentioned it to him right away—"

"Yeah, and we all know how well that turned out..." he trailed off as she shot him a nasty look.

"Anyway," she continued. "My point is, how are we supposed to work together when he can't even talk to me about the simplest things?"

"No offense, Temperance, but should who you're dating - or not dating - directly affect your partnership?" I point out.

Neither one of them replied right away. Instead they just turned to look at one another. Locking eyes with Booth, for just a second more than necessary, she replied, "No. No, it shouldn't."

"But, it apparently does," I interjected. "Booth feels that your 'partnership' with Agent Sullivan is causing a strain on your partnership with him."

"He what?" I saw confusion - or pleading - in her eyes as she turned back to him. "Booth?"

Booth turned to me with hesitation and trepidation in his eyes.

"Go on, Booth." I egged him on. "Tell her what you're feeling. The only way you'll ever move forward with your relationship and remedy these issues is for both of you to face them head on."

Booth slowly moved closer to where Temperance was seated on the couch, lessening the distance between them.

"Bones.." he started slowly, his gaze holding hers. "Our 'partnership' has had it's ups and downs over the years, but one thing that has been consistent was that we were always there for each other 100 percent, no matter what. I had your back and you had mine. I had even told Cam, when she had considered firing you -"

"Cam was seriously considering firing me? For what?" She leaned forward, recalling past events. "We had a heated discussion about my disapproval of her methods and her disapproval on how I conducted myself. She made some comments about looking for a suitable replacement, but I never thought that she had seriously considered firing me. How did you find out? Wait, maybe I don't want to know," she concluded.

"It was more of a hypothetical," he admitted. "I stopped in to pick up some paperwork from you, and decided to stop by Cam's office to see how things were going. She asked me something along the lines of 'what would you do if I fired Dr. Brennan?' So I told her. I told her that I was with you all the way. No matter what. And I meant every word of it."

Watching the two of them concentrate so hard on each other, I felt a bit like a voyeur. Which, technically is what my profession really is; watching others as they come to realizations about themselves and the people they love. It was good to see Booth was starting to open up to her and that she appeared to be accepting of his words, even though simultaneously she seemed a little scared.

"That's to be expected, Booth. In our line of work, our lives are constantly on the line - even though before I was partnered with you, mine never use to be," She gave him a weak smile. "But, if we didn't have that trust in our partnership we'd have nothing."

"Yeah, but for me, it's extended to more than just our partnership," he conceded.

"Oh." she uttered, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Anyway, once Agent Sullivan entered the picture, I felt that our - partnership - became strained. I would bring you a case, but when I got there, it turned out that Sully beat me to it. Cullen assigned you to me. Not him. Just because you're dating – or, whatever - doesn't mean that you have to be together all. The. Time," he emphasized by poking his finger into the cushion between them.

"First of all, _Cullen_ was the one who told Sully to bring me those cases," she explained. "He didn't reassign me to him. The cases in question were time sensitive and needed my immediate attention."

"So that's why when I came to you with a new case, you waved me off and told me to take Zack with me!" he fumed.

"He just got his Doctorate, Booth, and wanted to get out in the field a bit. I didn't think it was going to cause that much of an issue since you both seemed to be doing quite a bit of male bonding," she spouted. "Zack is a perfectly adept Forensic Anthropologist. He knows practically everything I do. The bones were identified in a timely manner and the case still got solved. So how is that an issue, Booth?"

"Because apparently, you'd rather be off with Sully, than with me," he blurted out.

They both sat and stared at each other. A look of shock crossed over her face.

"You're the one who introduced us - which would have never happened if you hadn't been all trigger happy and shot that ice cream truck," she retorted.

She turned to me, frustrated. "And _he's_ the one who tells _me_ that _I_ can't have a gun because he's afraid of what _I'll_ do with it. At least I never shot and inanimate object!"

She turned back to Booth and continued, "Anyway, he's one of _your_ oldest friends, from back in your army days. You trusted him enough to partner him with me in your absence, so why shouldn't I trust him? Unlike you though, he chooses to open up to me about his past, the things he's seen and done. I can talk to him without wondering if he'll try to shut me out or skirt an issue. He treats me as an equal, Booth, not as something to which he can claim ownership. But, most importantly, he tells me how he feels about me and doesn't try to hide behind metaphors," she said, shifting on the couch to sit farther from Booth.

"You're as guilty of that as I am, Bones," he said quietly, looking down at his hands.

She sighed and directed her attention back to me. "I honestly don't see how this is getting us anywhere, Dr. Wyatt."

"Trust me, Temperance. We've most definitely made progress," I said, smiling. Maybe there's hope for these two yet.

They continued to sit on the couch, staring at each other - the tension between them evident.

"Well, times up for this week," I said. "Will we be seeing you again next week, Temperance?"

"We'll see, Dr. Wyatt. We'll see." With that, the two of them simultaneously rose off the couch. Before either of them moved, she turned to him and reached in his jacket pocket, searching for something. It turned out to be his keys.

"I'm driving," she stated.

"It's my car," he countered as they started towards the door.

"If you want me to come back with you next week, you'll let me drive," she challenged.

"So you do want to come back again," he smiled at her in jest as they left the room. "You could have just said so, Bones."

"No, I just want to drive," she replied stubbornly as they headed down the hallway.

I could see that it was going to be a long week for the two of them. I knew they'd avoid talking about anything that had been discussed in this session, but all the while it would nag at them in the back at their minds. I also knew that even amidst her protests, Dr. Brennan would be back again the following week.

Just wanted to say a huge "Thank You" to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. All your feedback really means a lot to me. I'm already working on the third chapter, so it should be up soon!


	3. Chapter 3

At 6 o'clock, on the dot, I heard a soft rapping at my office door, the opening of which revealed none other than Dr. Temperance Brennan on the other side. Alone.

"Ah, Temperance, good to see you," I welcomed as I ushered her into my office. "Glad you decided to join us again - or just me - as the case may be." I peered out into the hallway to be sure, before shutting it behind her. "Will Agent Booth be joining us this evening?"

"He'll be here soon," she informed me. "Cullen needs him to finish up some paperwork." She hesitated before moving further into the room. "You don't mind that I came here without him, do you?"

"Oh, no, of course not. Actually, I had hoped to speak with you alone for a few moments." With that we had taken our prior positions - she on the couch and me in my chair. "I assume that since you said that he had paperwork to finish, that it was for a case? One in which you weren't involved?" I inquired.

"Well, I started working with him on it, but then Agent Sullivan requested my assistance." I eyed her questioningly. "I asked Booth if had minded before I gave him my decision." I eyed her again. "He told me I should go," she stated defensively.

I had taken a moment to collect my thoughts, trying to figure out the best route to take with her. From what Booth had told me in a prior session, Temperance wasn't very receptive to psychology. She had a lot of trauma in her past and abundant trust issues with people - stemming from her family leaving her at a young age. Surprisingly, she was remarkably strong-willed. From only my few short experiences with her, I had surmised her main coping method: Disassociation. By disassociating herself from people by putting up "walls," so to speak, she never had to worry about them abandoning her. Booth had been slowly breaking down the walls she fought for so long to keep intact, and that scared her more than anything, I knew to proceed with caution and not to push her too much.

"So, how would you define your relationship with Booth?"

I watched her with interest as she absently played with one of the buttons on her shirt.

"Booth and I - We're friends and partners. Beyond that, I don't think I can really define what we are," she said as she tried to sidestep the question.

"Well, why don't you try? This might be of great help in figuring out what's going wrong in your partnership," I implored.

"Fine," she sighed, shifting nervously on the couch. "But what I tell you stays between us? Right?"

"Yes. The only way he'll find out, Temperance, is if you ask me to open a dialogue between the two of you based on information you've provided me. Otherwise, "I assured her. "I hold whatever you tell me in the strictest confidence."

She looked down at her hands, then back up at me. Her eyes were wide with apprehension. Slowly, it faded and she began to open up to me.

"Booth and I - above all else - Booth and I are - partners. As he mentioned previously, we've got each other's backs. 100 percent. Besides that, he's one of my closest friends. He's accepts me for who I am - social flaws and all - and has proven time and again that he'll always be there for me. Yet there is still a piece of me that feels like I have to hold back certain things..."

"Certain things? Such as?"

She nervously twiddled her thumbs in her lap. "Such as the possibility of something beyond friendship with him. I'm sure he believes that I'm oblivious to the sexual tension between us at times - since for the most part I do try to ignore it. But for me, getting involved with Booth would be detrimental to our relationship. We would be putting on the line everything that we've worked so hard to achieve together. And, right now, that's a risk that I can't afford to take. Everyone I've ever loved has abandoned me and I can't let that happen with Booth. Even if it means keeping him at arms length."

"So, is that why you choose to be with Agent Sullivan? Because you have no emotional connection to him, thus making him 'safe' in your eyes?"

"I choose to be with Agent Sullivan, Tim, because he's _not_ Booth."

I said nothing, choosing instead to let her continue to gather her thoughts.

"For one thing, he's practically a squint-" I looked curiously at her. Apparently, she understands people better than she gives herself credit because she immediately picked up on my unspoken question and continued, explaining further. "A 'squint' is what the FBI calls scientists, because, well, we squint at things. At first, it's what Booth used to call us - I believe it was out of disrespect, but that's changed over time."

"I've also heard him call you 'Bones.'" I mentioned. "Where did that name come from?" At the mention of her moniker, a smile crossed her face.

"There's really not much of a story. I work with bones, so Booth decided to call me 'Bones.' I was so infuriated with him for calling me that at the beginning of our partnership, but with time, it has become something of a term of endearment, much like 'Squints' has."

"And how do you feel about these 'terms of endearment,' Temperance?"

"Put it this way, Dr. Wyatt. If anyone else ever called me Bones, I would dropkick them," she laughed. It was the first real laugh I had heard from her since we had begun these sessions.

"So, let us get back to Agent Sullivan. How is he 'not Booth' as you had stated previously?"

"Sully majored in Biometrics and minored in Kinesiology at Princeton. He's cerebral, analytical and cautious – much like myself. Whereas Booth is driven by emotion; he doesn't think before he acts and trusts his gut and his heart more than anything. Professionally, Tim understands me more than any other man has."

"But, what about personally?" Her eyes met with mine and again, she hesitated. I assumed this was uncharted territory that she had never spoken about with most people.

"Personally? That would be Booth. He's the only family that I've ever really had -" Then, as if almost on cue, the door opened and in rushed Agent Booth.

"Hey guys. Sorry, I'm late," he apologized as he sat down on his pre-established side of the couch and exuberantly clasped his hands together. "So, what's going on? Cullen wanted me to finish these reports and - well, it doesn't really matter. I'm here now. So, where are we?" As he had entered, I observed Temperance wipe her cheek in effort to regain her composure.

"How nice of you to knock, Booth." Temperance looked at him, mildly annoyed.

"Oh, wait. Were you two - " He gestured between the two of us as he perched himself at the edge of the cushion, prepared to stand up.

"No, Booth. Dr. Wyatt allowed me to wait for you in here," she said, not being entirely truthful. "Much more practical than waiting out in the hallway for the last -" She paused as she looked at her watch. "Oh, twenty minutes or so. Plus, you know how much I hate psychology." She turned to me and winked, which went unobserved by Booth.

"So last time, we discussed how Agent Sullivan's relationship with Temperance is causing undue stress in your partnership -"

"You really like to jump right in there, don't ya, Doc?" Booth said as he squirmed in his seat.

"Why beat around the bush, Agent Booth? We need to address the issues at hand so you can be reinstated. Isn't that ultimately what you want? As soon as I sign off on that paper you'll never have to see me again," I reminded him.

"Fine." He sat back and readjusted himself on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Let's try a different approach, shall we? Booth, define the relationship between you and Temperance."

"Like, regarding our partnership...or beyond than that?" he inquired.

"Whatever you feel comfortable discussing."

"We're partners and friends," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Care to expand on that?" I said, probing for further information

"As you know, I have my - as some people would call them - quirks. But so does she. We complement each other. I would even go as far as calling her the yin to my yang."

Confused, Brennan turned toward Booth. "I'm yin to your yang? What's that mean?"

"We're like - soul mates, Bones."

"Oh my god, Booth, You're jealous," she stated matter-of-factly turning to face him. She remained, however, firmly planted on her end of the couch they shared.

"I am not jealous," he retorted. He seemed to be glued to his couch cushion as well.

"Yes," she stated emphatically. She scooted over onto the middle cushion, closing the distance between them and getting closer to his face. "You are." Her hand stopped just short of poking him with a finger.

"No," he paused. "I'm not." He gave her this smirk that's hard to identify. It seemed to be a kind of defensive reflex; an attempt to use charisma to get himself out of a jam, much like at our previous session. "For your information, the term soul mates doesn't necessarily have a romantic connotation."

"I'm quite aware of that, Booth. Anthropologically speaking, it's a part of love economics, which plays a huge role in our society and culture. Soul mates are souls which have been with each other throughout many lifetimes. There are various types of soul mates - twin flames being the most popular concept. Twin flame soul mates have intense chemistry and attraction towards each other. They 'complete' each other and, if separated, tend to suffer enormous pain."

Sounds like two people I know.

They search each others eyes, a realization dawning upon them. Dr. Brennan tries to ignore this newly gained insight and continues her analytical diatribe.

"But, soul mates can also be friends, co-workers or even family who have an emotional bond and have helped each other in times of need," she explains as they continue to hold their intense stare. "Sometimes one can be mistaken about who his or hers is, though. If another person exists, with whom he or she can achieve a higher soul mate ratio, then the current partner is not his or her soul mate after all. There is nothing in this world that could make a person happier than spending time and being in love with their soul mate."

"Does Sully make you happy, Bones? I mean really happy?" He asks her directly while continuing to hold her gaze.

"Honestly, Booth, he does. I wish I could say that he doesn't and that I know that things with him aren't going to work out, but I can't. I have to see where this thing with him goes." Her eyes plead for his understanding.

Booths nods as he places a hand on her knee, giving her a little squeeze. "I understand, Bones."

"But you make me happy too," she says as she places her hand atop his. "And I don't want to lose that. I don't want this," she waves her hand between the two of them, then places it back on his. "Whatever _this_ is - between us, to ever ruin that or make things weird. I'm not as oblivious as you think, Booth. I'm aware that there is _something, _I just don't think we're ready to take that chance yet," she admits.

"I agree. 100 percent, I agree." They smile at each other, a mutual acknowledgement of future possibilities.

"Besides," She says taking her hand off his and placing and open palm on his shoulder. "We need to start slow. After all, you still have issues with even talking to me about sex!" she exclaims, lightening the mood once again.

"I do not!" He protests. "I just don't see any need to discuss it. It's a _very_ private act, Bones. You don't see me butting into your bedroom activities now, do you?"

"No," she pauses. "It's because you have issues."

"No. I don't," he combatively states, enforcing his point by jabbing his finger into her shoulder.

"Do too," she stubbornly states, once again moving closer to him, about to return the action.

Oh god. This could go on for quite a while. Instead, I decide to interject before her retaliation can commence.

"No, I-"

"Well, you two, time is up." They both stop, mid-action, and turn to look at me. A bit embarrassed, having realized how childish they must have seemed, they sit back on the couch, their thighs slightly touching.

"I think we've made some exceptional progress. Temperance, thank you so much for joining us. I know that you have some - reservations - about psychology, so thank you for not fighting me."

"I did and I still do, but it was actually quite – therapeutic," she admits.

I turn back to Booth.

"We've worked through a majority of the issues that were brought to light at our first session, at least the ones I think had the most impact on your work performance, so I'll be signing off on your release."

The Agent smiles and excitedly questions, "So this means I get my gun back, right?"

Temperance rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Yes, Agent Booth, that is exactly what that means. Do me a favor though, if you ever again get the urge to randomly shoot at something - count to five," I advise. "And, whatever you do, don't do it because the consequences of subsequent incidents will be far worse then having to spend time with me."

He stands and turns to Temperance, taking her hand and helping her to a standing position.

"Thanks for everything, Doc," he says as he walks forward and shakes my hand. "Hey, who knows, maybe you'll be seeing me sooner than you think..."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"And not because I'm required to," he smiles.

"Thank you, Dr. Wyatt," Temperance says as she takes a step closer to me. "This was quite the experience." Then she does something that I would have never expected. She hugs me.

Before the two of them can leave the room, I call out to Booth.

"Oh, before you leave. There's one more thing you'll have to do before I can sign off on these papers..."

-----------------------------------------

End 3. Yes. I'm evil.

So the final chapter will be on its way soon. It's more of a fluffy epilogue, but I'm sure you'll still enjoy it.  Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't believe he's actually making me do this," Booth says to Brennan as they enter the diner, taking their seats at their usual table.

"Booth, he does things unconventionally for the most part, or so you've told me. Didn't he make you put together a barbeque at your first session as part of his 'process?'" He nodded at her in acknowledgement of this fact. "So why would this surprise you?" She questioned him.

"But, apologizing to an ice cream truck, Bones?" Come on, that's just ridiculous!" He throws his hands up in the air.

"Yeah, about as ridiculous as shooting one in the first place, I suppose," she counters, with a smirk.

"Touché."

A few seconds later, the pair hears the sound of music in the distance. Brennan peers out the window and watches as the ice cream truck slowly approaches. She stands and takes Booth by the hand, leading him towards the door.

"As stupid as this may seem to you, Dr. Wyatt thinks that this is a very important step into fully helping you get over your issues." She moves behind him and pushes him out the door. They stand on the corner awaiting its arrival.

"Since when have you been all 'down with psychology?'" She gives him a questioning look in response. "You hate psychology."

With that, the truck pulls up in front of them. Brennan grabs Booth's upper arm and drags him towards the vehicle.

"Yes, yes I do," Brennan agreed. "But, Dr. Wyatt has been right about quite a few things. He did help us confront some things that we had decided to intentionally avoid..." She turns to him and they smile at each other, simultaneously. "So why not go with it. Besides, this is the last thing you have to do before you can fully get back to work. No more psych evaluations, just you and I in the field, catching the bad guys like we always have. Ya know, before your bout of anger against this poor, innocent, ice cream truck" she says, punctuating each word by patting the truck for effect. "Now, Booth, say you're sorry."

"Can't you just call Wyatt and _tell_ him that I did it?" He suggests.

"Booth..." she says with a disapproving tone. She places her hand on her hip in a manner frighteningly similar to the way in which his mother used to when reprimanding him as a child.

He looks at her with annoyance. "Fine. I'm only doing this so that things can get back to normal."

"Good."

"Great." He hesitates, then turns back to Brennan. "For the record, I still find it extremely stupid having to apologize to a car..."

"It's an ice cream truck, not a car," she corrects before she notices Booth trying to back away. "Booth! Just do it."

Returning to the ice cream truck, he addresses it. "I'm sorry I shot you," He says begrudgingly, focusing his attention on the truck. Turning back to Brennan he says, "There. Are you happy now?"

"Hmm," she ponders. "I don't know Booth. That didn't feel very sincere to me. I don't think I can call Dr. Wyatt and honestly tell him that you thoroughly followed all of his instructions. It just wouldn't be right."

Booth looks at her in mock horror. "You're serious?"

"Yes, Booth, I am. But this time, try it with –" she pauses, enjoying the situation more than she should be. "A little more feeling."

He turns back to the truck, but not before looking back at her, pleading for her to change her mind. The expression on her face says that she most definitely won't budge. "I'm sorry I shot you. It was an idiotic thing to do and I was wrong. I hope we can still be friends, Mr. Softee." He turns back to Brennan, who is laughing, and drops his arms in defeat. "There. Was that better?"

"Yes, much." She says as she joins him and wraps her arm around his waist, leading him toward the vendor's window. "Now…you can buy me ice cream."

"I'm buying you ice cream now? When was that part of the deal?" He pulls her closer to him and lets out a chuckle as Brennan playfully swats at him.

She stops a minute to ponder. "Just think of it as the final step of making amends. Once you do this, I'll be sure to call Dr. Wyatt and let him know you followed through."

"Are you blackmailing me?" He questions, taking a step back.

"Yes," she states, with a glimmer in her eyes.

"I don't like it," he says as he put his hands on his hips, challenging her.

"I'm fairly certain you're not supposed to," she retorts.

The familiarity of the banter isn't lost on either of them and they smile at each other, knowing no matter what the future holds for them things will turn out okay.

"Fine. Let's got get some ice cream because you have a phone call to make. I really miss my gun."

-------------------------------------------------

And with that, we come to the end.

This story was so much fun to write even though it pretty much wrote itself. Scenes just played out in my head and all I had to do was write them down, so I guess I should be thanking my muse, even though you picked the most inopportune times to play those scenes out sometimes. :)

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and an extra thanks for those of you who sent in your reviews. I truly appreciated ever last one of them.

Finally, I have to give a huge THANKS to my beta/sidekick for continually encouraging me and supporting me in my writing. Without you, I probably would have never put any of my work online.


End file.
